


Sleep

by childhoodlight



Category: The Fall (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childhoodlight/pseuds/childhoodlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of the season finale.</p>
<p>Just as she is about to exit, she sees her own reflection in the bathroom mirror.</p>
<p>Pale skin, blonde wet hair falling about her shoulders, a white t-shirt and white trousers. Pale, is all she can think. A pale woman with pale hands and pale eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Comfort

"We're losing him!" she keeps shouting to the sky above her, voice laced with desperation.

The sound of the blades of the helicopter cutting through the air makes her heart speed up.

She's cradling him like a child in her arms, one word on repeat in her head: justice, justice, justice.

What is justice, even? Philosophical terms such as metaphysics and deconstruction and temporality flash through her head while she is trying to understand the emotions in her body, the feverent fire in her bones aching for justice. It cannot end like this and he should not get to escape the consequences of his actions.

His blue eyes are soft and sickly sweet, and she is torn between continuing to stop his blood from flowing and letting him bleed to death right before her eyes. Her head is swimming. Justice, death, Fiona Gallagher, Sarah Kay, Sarah, Alice Monroe, Olivia, his beautiful daughter, curly bangs in her eyes, asking for daddy, daddy I love you daddy -

Someone grabs her arms and pulls her into a standing position.

She's only half aware of the world around her. The other half is stuck inside her mind and body, inside with the emotions spreading through her limbs.

But she recognises the face before her, and it makes her eyes turn into stones and her countenance becomes like ice. It's Jim.

"Let go of me," she says darkly, a sweet whisper in the chaos around them.

Spector is being carried into an ambulance and his blood is on her fingers, on her hands, there's blood on your hands, Stella--

Jim does not let go of her and she feels the frustration in her body.

"Jim," she whispers with undertones of venom, "let go of me. Now." The fear appears in his eyes and he lets her go. She wobbles.

"Are you hurt?" He says, the constant and desperate stress in his voice evident.

Stella tries to move, but she only feels the world spinning around her,

"I'm fine." Jim puts his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward a police car. His hand burns against her back and she feels the frustration build. Oh, how tired she is of him and his neverending hope that she'll suddenly change her mind and want to fuck him again. How many times will she have to say no? How many times will she have to break his nose?

He opens the door for her and she gets into the backseat.

"I'll find someone who can drive you to the hospital."

"The hospital?" her eyes are closed, and she feels like she's falling asleep and passing out simultaneously.

"You need to be checked for injuries."

"I'm not hurt," she stubbernly says, but her mind is aching.

"That's not your call, Stella," he says.

He closes the door, and the world around her becomes silent.

She enjoyes the silence and it helps her try to sort out the mess inside her head. OK. She'll go to the hospital. When she's been cleared she can simply go and monitor how they manage to keep Spector alive. Yes, that'll work. But she'll need to change clothes and wash the blood off her body, all right, she'll have to shower, perhaps go for a swim, wait no what, she can barely stand up, why can't she, why is her body not cooperating, hospital, blood, Spector shot, Anderson... Tom Anderson. The image of his naked body flashes before her closed eyes. She cannot sum up the energy to feel anything.

The other door to the back seat opens, but she doesn't have the energy to open her eyes.

"Stella," says the sweet and melodic voice of Tanya Reed Smith and Stella lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding inside her lungs.

It's a sigh of relief. She hears how Tanya gets seated and closes the door.

"Tanya," she answers, voice weak. She still cannot seem to open her eyes, but it doesn't matter.

"Are you injured?"

"No."

Reed does not seem to know what to say, and neither does Stella. Her mind is starting to empty, becoming a sweet void, protecting her from thoughts. She feels like she's floating around in an empty, rainy cloud.

She hears Tanya inhale, "Can I touch you?"

Stella almost chokes on the air she breathes, eyes opening wide. She turns to Tanya, suddenly clearly awake.

Tanya blushes, "No...n-no, that's not what I meant, or... well... I feel like I should maybe... I feel... I want to comfort you?"

It comes out as a question, and Stella looks at her incredulously.

"Comfort me?" she asks, not breaking eye contact with Tanya.

"Yes," Tanya says, her gaze becoming steady. Determined. The chaos of the scene outside the car rages on, but the air inside the vehicle is strangely calm.

Stella does not know what to say, does not know what comforting entails in Tanya's world, doesn't know if she really needs any comforting, doesn't-- her thoughts stop and she sighs.

"OK."

Tanya seems taken aback by her answer.

"OK," she repeats and scoots closer to Stella.

Hesitantly, she takes her hand, letting their fingers intertwine. Her hands are incredibly soft.

Stella sighs, once again, feeling her body calm down a bit. The seconds pass and Stella closes her eyes again.

Someone opens the door to the driver's seat.

"Ma'am, I'll be driving you." Thank God, it's Ferrington.

Tanya does not let go of her hand and the vehicle begins to move. Stella falls asleep.

 

 

xxxxx

 

"Stella," someone whispers close to her ear. Stella opens her eyes.

They are still in the car and she is still holding Tanya's hand, but they are not at the hospital.

"We're at mine," Tanya explains, "come on."

Stella's eyes find Dani's and she gives her what she hopes is a grateful look.

They get out of the car, and Tanya, still holding her hand, leads her to the front door. Once inside and in the hallway, Tanya lets go of her hand and closes the door.

Stella feels like she could fall asleep standing up.

Tanya disappears into the house but Stella can't make her feet work.

"Stella?" Tanya says, far away, too far away, Stella feels empty and without strength, doesn't know what to think or what to do, only wants to understand what justice is, if it exists, and if Paul Spector is dead or alive.

Tanya returns to the hallway, her facial expression soft. Stella is looking around the hallway, eyes like stones.

Tanya takes her hand and leads her into the house and into a spacious bathroom where she begins to wash the blood off of Stella's hands. Her touch is soft and so very gentle. Stella does not remember the last time someone touched her with such care.

"Let's take this off, hmm?" Tanya says and eases the coat off Stella's shoulders.

"Do you want to take a shower?" Tanya asks, face close to hers as she begins to unbutton her shirt.

Stella nods.

"Will you manage on your own?" Tanya slips the shirt off Stella's body and the only thing registering in Stella's mind is how Tanya's eyes nervously try to avoid looking anywhere but her face.

Stella nods.

Tanya gives her a small smile, "OK. Towels are in the bottom drawer. I'll bring some clothes for you. Holler if you need anything."

She leaves the bathroom and closes the door.

Stella looks down at her clean hands and feels the softness of Tanya's touch lingering on her skin.

 

xxxx

 

She exits the shower to find clothes laid out on the drawer. She gets dressed quickly.

Just as she is about to exit, she sees her own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Pale skin, blonde wet hair falling about her shoulders, a white t-shirt and white trousers. Pale, is all she can think. A pale woman with pale hands and pale eyes.

The cool air is refreshing when she exits the bathroom to find herself in the living room. She can hear the sound of Tanya in the kitchen, preparing food.

The home is dark wood and white fabrics and soft, pale colours. Stella fits right in. It's a clean yet homely place. Stella finds it comforting to look at.

She makes her way through the living room toward the kitchen. Tanya's back is to her. She's dressed in a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt, hair up in a high pony tail.

"Where are your daughters?" Tanya jumps, turning quickly.

She chuckles quietly at the sight of Stella, not unkindly, "God, don't you announce yourself?"

Stella almost smiles, "sorry."

Tanya turns again, returning to the grilled sandwhiches she's making, "at their grandmother's. Until tomorrow."

"Where's their father?"

"Away. Working. He'll be gone for another week," there is an edge to Tanya's voice now.

"OK," Stella says simply, not wanting to make Tanya uncomfortable.

Stella gets seated at the table.

"Are you hungry?"

"I don't know," Stella says honestly.

"Well, you need to eat regardless. So..." Tanya makes her way toward the table with a big plate with two grilled sandwiches. She gets seated opposite of Stella and they begin to eat in silence.

Stella finds her hunger once her lips touch the sandwich and she eats the whole thing in a matter of minutes. Tanya is a bit slower but keeps sending smiles Stella's way as Stella hungrily finishes the sandwich and empties her glass of water. The room is comfortably silent and Stella finds her eyelids beginning to close.

"Come on, let's find you a bed," Tanya says and stands up. Stella follows numbly.

They climb the stairs and Tanya opens a door to the left, disappearing inside it.

"The guest room," Tanya explains as Stella enters and finds another spacious room with a king sized bed.

The room is white and brown, the covers of the bed a midnight blue nuance. The bed looks like heaven.

Stella gets under the covers on one side of the bed, letting the soft mattress embrace her tired limbs.

Tanya hovers by the doorway, unsure what to do.

Stella looks up at Tanya and their gazes lock. Tanya's eyes are soft and lovely and Stella feels like she could spend the rest of the day resting in the gentle gaze.

Just as Tanya turns around, Stella opens her mouth:

"Sleep with me."

It is Tanya's turn to almost choke on the air, eyes opening wide, surprise evident on her face. Stella cannot help but chuckle. Tanya joins in and their laughters mix.

"Not like that. Just.... to comfort me, hmm?" Stella playful smirk is minimal but Tanya sees it.

She hesitates for a few seconds.

"OK," she finally says and lifts the covers of the bed on the side closest to the door. She gets in and scoots toward Stella.

Stella turns her head toward Tanya, a slight smile on her face, a smile reserved for the people she trusts, a personal smile that very few people in Belfast have seen.

Their hands find each other underneath the covers, their fingers intertwining. Stella feels the exhaustion wash over her. Before her eyes close entirely, she feels and sees how Tanya scoots even closer, their bodies almost touching. Stella does not smile, only gazes at her, and scoots closer herself until they are shoulder to shoulder. She cannot remember the last time she was in bed with someone without having sex with them.

Tanya smiles.

"Sleep."

Stella nods and closes her eyes. The world fades around her.


	2. Leather

For the first time in weeks, Stella's sleep is deep and dreamless. She wakes up to the smell of coffee and when she opens her eyes, she meets the brown colour of Tanya's. The sky outside the window is pink, illuminating the soft fabrics of the room. Tanya has an expression on her face which Stella cannot quite read, her mouth slightly opened, eyes big and intense. Stella slowly sits up, leaning against the cushioned bedframe behind them.

"What?" she asks, voice deep and sleepy. 

Tanya keeps looking at her, handing her a cup of coffee. Stella accepts it gratefully.

Tanya moves closer to her on the bed as they both put down their cups on the bedside tables beside them. 

"Stella," she begins, voice rich, face close, body close underneath the covers, "you saved her." 

Slowly, Stella lets herself smile at Tanya.

Tanya's smile matches hers, blinding and wide. The effect of it that spreads through her body, making her feel warm and calm, terrifies Stella.

"She's safe," Tanya whispers and Stella does not know what to do. This is Professor Reed Smith, or Tanya, one of few friends she's found here in Belfast. This is Tanya, the collegue she nearly had a one night stand with. This is Tanya, warm and safe and... so utterly different from anyone she's met in a very long time. Stella stares at her face and the soft play of light and shadow on her skin. She wants to kiss her so badly, but the professor said no and Stella respects that.

"What are you thinking about?" Tanya suddenly asks, and Stella realises she's been staring for quite some time. She considers what to say. 

"You wouldn't want to know," she settles for, true but perhaps not a very good answer.

Tanya frowns, "why not?" 

"Well, I'm not sure you'd be very comfortable with my answer." Stella tries to not smirk.

Tanya's face adopts a non-nonsense expression that Stella imagines she uses with her daughters quite a lot.

"Try me," Tanya says. 

"You."

"What do you mean.. you?" She can see Tanya's thoughts flying in her head, "Me?" 

"Yes, I was thinking about you," Stella says, her eyes playful as they watch the reaction on Tanya's face and the slight pink blush on her cheeks. It's very cute, Stella thinks.

"What about me?"

"I was thinking about kissing you." 

Stella is and has always been bold and straight-forward.

Tanya's eyes still on Stella's face, her expression serious and thoughtful. And slowly, she begins to move toward Stella. 

Stella cannot quite believe what is happening, staying still as a rock as to not startle Tanya or overwhelm her. Is she actually leaning forward to... kiss her? Is this happening? But didn't she... say... that she was brought up in..?

Their lips meet softly, but Stella barely dares to move. Tanya breaks the soft kiss and hovers near Stella's face, invading her space. Stella opens her eyes to find brown ones. 

"Stella," Tanya sighs, voice suddenly deeper and a little hoarse. Stella feels it all the way to her fingertips. She stares at Tanya's face, feeling lost. How can she be so paralysed by a kiss? What is that has suddenly made her incapable of doing anything? There's no movement within her, no thoughts, nothing, only a feeling of softness and warmth in her limbs. 

"What?" Stella whispers when Tanya does not continue.

Tanya sighs, eyes flicking down to Stella's lips, and then up to her eyes, "I'm married."

Stella does not know why she is telling her this.

"OK."

Tanya shoots her a look. If Stella knew Tanya better she would guess it was a look of annoyance. 

"Is that all you have to say?" 

Stella's eyes flicker away from Tanya's, focusing on the little strip of wall that is she can see behind Tanya's head.

"Yes," she says simply, not sure if she is supposed to have anything to say. 

"Look at me, Stella," Tanya says, and Stella forces her eyes to once again lock with Tanya's. 

Stella does not know what to do. The sky outside the window casts golden streaks upon Tanya's skin and Stella cannot seem to focus on anything else.  
The proximity of Tanya makes Stella feel a bit dizzy and she does the only thing she can think of: she moves forward and presses her lips against Tanya's.

It escalates. It isn't until they find themselves with Stella on top of Tanya with a hand underneath her shirt that Tanya breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. 

"Stella, stop." 

Stella stills and looks down at Tanya's face with its flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Her right hand is still resting on Tanya's bare ribs, having drawn patterns on her skin. 

Stella waits.

"I can't," Tanya says nervously, almost regretfully. 

Stella gives her a serious look. 

"Because of Croydon?"

Tanya bites her lip and Stella's eyes trace the movement. 

"No. Not because of.... Uh, Croydon... But... I just... I need to... I'm married, Stella." 

Stella is still sitting across Tanya's lap.

Stella begins: "I'm sorry if I--" 

"No." The reply is quick and delivered from a surprisingly steady voice. "Or," Tanya elaborates, "I don't know. I don't know if... I just can't. I need to... I need... I need to think." 

Stella raises an eyebrow. 

"Mhm." Tanya nods. 

Stella looks at her lips, her complexion gilded in the light of the morning sun, her dark hair. Files away the image for later. Let's her hands fall down to rest on her own thighs. 

"All right."

She falls back next to Tanya onto the mattress and stares up at the ceiling. 

"I'm sorry," says Tanya from beside her.

Stella does not look at her when she answers:

"Don't be."

"It's almost 6. We should go to the hospital." 

Stella nods. 

"Do you want to borrow some clothes?" Tanya begins to get up.

"If it's all right with you," Stella says as she mirrors Tanya and they begin to make the bed. 

A strange feeling of domesticity passes through Stella for a second. She shrugs it off. 

The sun is beginning to crawl its way upwards, the pink hue becoming lighter and lighter. Tanya finds her some clothes and Stella goes about styling her blonde locks whilst Tanya makes breakfast. They eat in silence, eating their scrambled eggs and drinking their coffee. Black, Stella notes as Tanya pours herself a cup. For some silly reason it makes Tanya even more attractive in Stella's eyes. 

When they get ready to go they find Spector's blood on Stella's coat and Tanya has to find a leather jacket for Stella. Stella puts it on and zips it up. Just as she is about to open the door and exit, she notices that Tanya isn't moving. She looks up and finds Tanya holding her own jacket in one hand, mouth slightly open as she stares at Stella.

"Wow," she says, and Stella smiles at her.

"What?"

But Tanya does not answer, only walks towards her, giving her an appreciative look. Stella feels uncharacteristically self-conscious; she hasn't really received any clues as to how comfortable Tanya is with whatever she is feeling toward Stella. Stella smiles and opens the door. 

 

xxxx

Spector is in all likelihood going to survive. The blood will continue to flow through his veins, his heart will continue to beat, his limbs will move, his eyes will see, his thoughts will wander, but hopefully he will never touch another woman again. He will be imprisoned despite his own notion of freedom. Olivia Spector will be a daughter with a living and breathing, imprisoned father, serving his time. Olivia Spector will be the daughter of a serial killer. Stella shudders at the thought. Spector's condition is still not very stable, he did lose a lot of blood, but his heart is beating, the sound of it echoing like ghosts in Stella's mind. She is back in her hotel bed after a day at the hospital and the office, monitoring Spector's health whilst also trying to catch up on the paperwork she neglected the day before. Every little action and move and thought and order must be documented and addressed in order to explained what actually happened in the woods two days prior. Interviews within the PNSI were held, every person involved questioned and prodded and assessed. Stella reminds herself that, in the midst of mistakes and fuck ups, they did manage to accomplish one thing, they managed to do something good: they found Rose. Alive. Stella thinks of Tanya's smile in bed that morning, how she had looked upon Stella with such... gratefulness? Stella couldn't quite pinpoint what kind of look it had been, but it continued to pop up in her mind throughout the day. She had not seen Tanya since that morning, as Tanya had been by Rose's side all day, waiting - along with Rose's husband - for the her to wake up. Stella had not found the time to even consider checking up on them.

The sound of her phone brings her back from her thoughts. She sits up in the dark room, trying to locate it. Her bag. She curses to herself as she has to get up and leave the warmth of the sheets. She rolls her eyes when she sees who is calling: Jim. 

"Hello?" she answers, voice tired and weak.

"Stella? It's Jim. Hope I didn't wake you."

His voice sends unpleasant tingles down her spine.

"No, you didn't." 

"Where are you?" he asks and Stella stiffens. Oh, no.

"Why?"

"Come on, Stella, just tell me. Are you in your room?" Stella wonders if he is drunk, but she doesn't know him well enough anymore to tell if he is, based on solely his voice.

"Yes," she says.

"Can I come up?" 

Fucking fuck, how dare he?

"No, Jim. You can absolutely not come up."

She glares into the darkness.

"Come on Stella, five minutes, please, I just need to--"

Stella interrupts him by hanging up.


	3. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suppose this is where things become slightly AU since I'm adding more details of my own making.

  
Stella manages to get six hours of comfortable sleep. The sun wakes her up at 8 and she yawns as she stretches her limbs. A moment of solitude amongst thousands of similar moments. Different bed, different city. Same feeling.

She reaches for her phone to find yet another missed call from Burns. There is also a text from Tanya.

_"Hi. Are you at the station yet?"_

It was sent 10 minutes ago. Stella hurries to answer, trying to make her fingers work.

" _No, I just woke up. I'll be there in about an hour._ "

The reply is quick:

" _Want to have breakfast first?_ "

Stella almost smiles.

_"I'd love to."_

They meet 45 minutes later at a small café within walking distance of the station. Stella hadn't had the time to properly style her hair, instead deciding to let it rest from products and heat for a day. If Tanya notices, she doesn't say anything about it. They get seated in the corner of the cafe and order coffee and eggs. The day is warm, spring turning into a cool northern summer. It's not raining.

"How are you?" Tanya asks as they sip their coffee, waiting for the eggs.

"I'm all right."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Well.... Yes. I suppose." She gives Tanya a small smile, the smallest of hints. Tanya reciprocates.

"Good."

"Good?" Stella asks.

"Yes. It's good that you slept. If anyone deserves a good night's sleep, it's you."

Stella sighs as she remember the evening.

"Well... Jim Burns did call me, asking if he could come up to my hotel room."

Tanya's eyes widen.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" Stella rolls her eyes and watches as the realisation dawns on Tanya's face.

"I don't know what to do with him. One moment he's talking about leaving his family and wanting me whilst we're in the middle of working the case, and the next he's lashing out on me at work for that exact reason. What is it with men and not separating work from the personal?"

Tanya's eyes lower to her hands.

"Well, sometimes... It's difficult."

Their eyes meet again and Stella doesn't know what to say.

Tanya moves the conversation along,

"Did you let him come up?"

Stella almost chokes on her coffee,

"No! For God's sake. I'd never."

Tanya bites her lip,

"But you have?"

Stella doesn't know why she hesitates.

"...yes. Once. A long time ago."

"But you wouldn't want it to happen again?"

Stella forces her eyes to hold a steady gaze with Tanya as she answers:

"Not with him."

She sees Tanya swallow, follows the movement of her throat. Imagines the soft skin, images what it could smell like. Imagines...--

The waiter arrives with their eggs and ham and Stella thanks him.

"How's Rose doing?"

And this time Tanya gives her a real smile, which warms Stella to the core.

"She's recovering. She almost opened her eyes this morning. Tom texted."

Stella is genuinely surprised.

"That's very quick."

"I know, right? I'm just grateful for anything. As long as she's still breathing."

Stella nods. Thinks of faces and names and bodies that aren't breathing.

They eat in silence for a while.

"So what's on the agenda today?"

"Preparing documents. Finishing the hearings with all the officers. Meeting with lawyers. Judicial work. Burns said he would handle the media, but since I've been the spokesperson earlier we thought I should perhaps hold the next press conference. We're not entirely sure yet though. We'll take it slowly, I imagine. Now when there's finally no real stress."

Tanya nods, "yes, this case has been tiring for all of us, I think. We all need to rest."

Their eyes lock again, and it's driving Stella insane. It feels like there is some kind of a parallel conversation flowing right beneath their words. She cannot decipher what is being said, only knows that there is something, some undercurrent of meaning in all their words.

"When are you going back?" Tanya suddenly asks.

Stella frowns, looking outside the window.

"I'm not sure. Within two weeks, is my guess. No longer than that. I might have to return in the event of a trial."

Tanya bites her lip, deep in thought it seems. She is fiddling with a bracelet, seeming a bit restless.

"What is it?"

Tanya looks up and Stella wills her to answer with her eyes. Tanya hesitates for a few seconds, but seems to steel herself against whatever dilemma she must have been thinking of.

"Would you like to come to dinner? Tonight?"

Stella is a bit surprised. The seconds pass by whilst Stella tries to understand exactly what Tanya is asking.

"Um it's all right if you don't want to. My girls will be there but I just...--"

"Tanya," Stella interrupts her.

"I'd love to come, if you'd have me."

Tanya gives her a hesitant smile.

"Of course, Stella."

Xxxx

Dinner is a quiet affair. Stella arrives at seven, dressed in the leather jacket she borrowed from Tanya, a white shirt and navy blue trousers. Her hair is newly washed, smelling faintly of green apples. Tanya is dressed in black, eyes dark.

They drink wine the colour of blood whilst Tanya prepares the food. Stella sits at the kitchen island, watching Tanya move through the kitchen, and revelling in being able to watch Tanya freely. 20 minutes after her arrival, Tanya's two girls storm down the stairs, a whirlwind of energy and marble Irish skin and dark eyes. They are beautiful. Sanya is four and Sunita is seven and they stop dead in their tracks when they see Stella, eyes wide, mouths open. Tanya laughs at them.

"Come on, girls. This is Stella. Remember, I told you about her. She works with mummy."

Sanya doesn't say a thing but Sunita, older and perhaps a bit more comfortable with strangers, opens her mouth to speak:

"Hello."

Stella smiles at them, leaning down so she is closer to their height.

"Hi. I'm Stella."

"I'm Sunita."

Stella tries to soften her face, "hi, Sunita."

The little girl next to her still hasn't made a sound. Stella smiles at her, and the little girl almost smiles back, but not quite.

"Mummyyyyyyy," she says instead and turns away from Stella, running up to her mother and hugging her leg from behind, "I'm 'ungry."

Tanya picks her up and settles the little girl on her hip.

"Look, Sanya. It's almost ready. But it's got to go in the oven first so it can cook."

The little girl pouts, "OK."

She lets the girl down and both run across the room whilst Sunita shouts, "race youuuuuu to sponge bob!"

Up the stairs they hurry.

Stella does not quite now what to say, only stays still as she tries to remember how to be around children. Her mind flashes to a lifetime ago when there was a baby in her arms, fragile and soft against her breast. She sees London and Jonathan with his dark eyes and hollow cheekbones, almost smiling, but never quite fully, face handsome, skin pale, eyes messy and dark.

She remembers Blue, her darling daughter, small and innocent as she took her last breath.

Stella shakes herself awake, having momentarily fallen into the depth that is her memories.

"Are you all right?" Tanya asks as she seats herself across the table.

Stella looks at her.

"Mmh."

"You sure?"

Stella's eyes harden, "yes."

Tanya keeps locking at her, gaze determined and stubborn.

"All right."

She lets it go.

Stella lets out a deep breath.

Xxxxx

Dinner is pleasant, the four of them chatting and laughing and eating. The girls fire questions at Stella.

Is your favourite colour green? Why are you in Belfast? Why do you speak like mummy? Can you swim in a pool of chocolate?

Stella speaks within them, lets the words flow before thinking, lets herself relax in the company of the two girls. She feels the tension in her shoulders ease a little, feels herself laugh more freely.

When dinner is finished it is almost 10, and the girls yawn across the table.

Tanya puts them to bed whilst Stella lounges on the sofa in the living room, drinking wine. She decides to go outside for a few minutes, needing fresh air to cool her warm skin. She steps onto the back porch, finding that the air is becoming warmer with each passing day. She looks around the garden with its trees and the houses beyond it. Beyond the neighbourhood grows a forest, a dark mass behind which the sun has settled for the night. Stella hears Tanya step outside behind her, but doesn't turn around.

"Hi there," Tanya says. Stella doesn't answer.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Spector."

"Ah. Anything in particular?"

"No. Not really. Just thinking. Of justice, really. Do you believe there's justice to be done? Is there any justice in a world where Spector exists?"

Tanya takes a moment to answer.

"There has to be."

"It's not enough." Stella's eyes settle on the dark sky above them, trying to make out any stars.

"What is the point. Will it soothe the pain of grief? Will it give back the life of Fiona? Will Olivia grow up peacefully? Will she not miss her daddy? Will the fact that Spector is imprisoned do anything to amend any past horrors? Or will it simply just keep him from causing more harm?"

"Both, I suppose." Tanya is now next to Stella, their shoulders almost touching.

"I mean," Tanya begins, "from Rose's perspective... She'll wear the scars on her arm for the rest of her life. Perhaps she'll cover them underneath long sleeves. She'll have nightmares. She will have trouble sleeping. Her body will heal slowly. She has a long road ahead of her, and I just... Hope she'll find some comfort in knowing that he is being punished for his actions. Don't you?"

"Yes," Stella says, "Rose. Hopefully. I just..." Stella trails off. The air is silent.

"I just... Sometimes I suppose I lose track of the purpose of it all. In the midst of death and murder and leads and forensics and endless hours of thoughts and theories... Sometimes I lose myself in the chase."

Tanya softly puts her hand on Stella's arm.

"Its understandable. You're only human, Stella."

Stella turns her head to find Tanya looking at her.

"I know."

They stay silent for a while.

"Is there anything I can do... To make you... I don't know... Feel a bit less lost?"

It's a dangerous question but Tanya does not seem to realise it until it's resting in the air between them.

Stella's eyes flicker down to Tanya's lips, a hint of playfulness in them.

"I can think of a few things," she dead pans. Tanya's cheeks darken a bit. Stella reaches out and takes Tanya's hand, urging her to come closer and Tanya complies. The air is cool around them, but Stella feels too warm.

Tanya presses her lips against Stella's and everything in Stella's body becomes about Tanya and her lips and her skin and smell. Her mind is blissfully empty, letting her body be in charge for a while.

They end up on the patio sofa, with - surprisingly - Tanya on top of Stella. Tanya breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, and Stella feels drunk. Perhaps she is.

"I've been thinking," Tanya begins, "and I want this." Her right hand travels hesitantly down Stella's torso, settling above her hip. Stella's body feels like it's on fire.

"But I can't sleep with you just like that. I just... I can't. I can't. I... I... Need to tell John. I need to... I need.--"

Stella interrupts her by pressing a finger to her lips.

"All right," she says. "It's all right, Tanya."

Tanya's fingers wander between Stella's lips and her collar bones, drawing gentle patterns. Stella does not know what to think, can barely remember the last time she felt comfortable with the idea of having feelings beyond attraction for anyone. Her head is spinning, the weight of Tanya's body on top of her delicious and distracting.

"Do you want to sleep here? It's pretty late," Tanya asks and Stella almost laughs.

"What?" Tanya seems a bit embarrassed.

"It's.. You're... Very... Cute."

Stella brings her hand to Tanya's hair, letting her fingers tangle in it.

"I'd love to sleep here," she pauses,"but what about Sanya and Sunita?"

Tanya bites her lip.

"Oh right.... But... Take the guest room."

Stella thinks for a few moments, "all right, but only because I'm too tired to order a taxi."

Tanya grins deliciously at Stella and gets up, dragging Stella with her.

"That's my girl."

The term of endearment takes Stella off guard.

Xxxx

At 2AM the door to the guest room opens slowly and in peers Tanya. Stella awakes, having slept too lightly, too stressed, too lost in dreams of a lived life. Tanya closes the door and tiptoes her away toward the bed.

"I can't sleep," she says. "Not when I know you're in the next room."

She crawls beneath the sheets, finding Stella's warm body, throws an arm around her waist, her face close to Stella's on the pillow.

"I can't stop thinking of you."

Stella gives her a smile, sleepy but calm.

"What about me?"

"You're so... Beautiful." The words are spoken in such pure earnest, the wonder painted on Tanya's face. It's different. It's different from when Jim speaks of her effect on men, as if she is some object of sexuality walking about the world giving men hardons. When Tanya says it, it settles within Stella, travels through her system, spreading in her body. Stella's not smiling, only looking at Tanya with serious eyes.

Stella is reminded of Agnes, young and sweet in their early twenties, love simpler and sweeter.

Stella closes her eyes, lets the vulnerability of the moment linger. Only in the deep hours of the night is her mind comfortable with this kind of sweetness.

"Do you want to sleep?"

How on earth can Tanya still have energy?

"Yes."

Tanya chuckles, "all right. Do you mind if I sleep here?"

Stella only pulls Tanya closer beneath the covers.

"Set an alarm. So you're back in your bed before the girls wake."

Tanya sets the alarm for 6 on Stella's phone.

They fall asleep within minutes, sharing the same pillow. Stella dreams of Agnes and her green eyes in their flat in London twenty years ago. She dreams of blood and blue skies and Spector and Olivia and the screams of Rose, held in captivity. When she wakes from the dream, Tanya pulls her closer, a feeling of safety lingering in the air. And she does not feel as lost anymore.


	4. Blue/Green

The alarm on Stella's phone is not loud; softly it fills the room with a small melody. Stella slowly gains consciousness as the melody trudges on. Tanya's body is heavy against hers, legs tangled. The sheets are warm and comfortable and the sun is slowly illuminating the room. The light is soft and hesitant.

"Tanya," Stella whispers, because Tanya shows no signs of waking. Stella lets her hand wander onto the skin on Tanya's back, underneath her t-shirt. Still no movement.

"Tanya," she says again, this time with a low, raspy voice.

Tanya's eyes open slowly.

"What?"

"You need to wake up."

"Why?" she lays her head on Stella's chest, burrowing into the warmth of her body.

Stella reaches toward the bedside table and turns off the alarm.

They lay there for a while, listening to the silence around them.

"When do they usually wake?"

"Around 6. But they didn't fall asleep until almost eleven last night so I'd guess at around 7. They need to be at daycare and school by 8.30."

Stella nods. So they probably have some time before Tanya has to get up.

Stella burrows further into the pillows, closing her eyes. Usually, she is wide awake when the alarm goes off. But not today, not with Tanya next to her; she feels a strange feeling of calm residing in her, making every moment about itself, and not the next to come. Tanya's lips are suddenly on her throat and she swallows as she feels the softness of them.

"Mmm," Tanya says against her skin and Stella smiles. What the hell is going on? It is so utterly different from any sexual experiences she has had in the past... ten years? This slow seduction, this bittersweet exploration, mixed with the tenderness. She feels a bit raw, like perhaps she's forgotten what tenderness actually is. Normally she would not feel comfortable with something like this. But... she feels herself reveling in Tanya's attention. She feels herself enjoying the honesty in Tanya's eyes and how sure she is of herself, even in a situation where it's so blatantly clear that she is confused and unsure. Stella feels herself wanting to be on the same page as her.

Tanya's lips continue their journey across her throat, upwards, toward her lips. Lazily, their lips meet. Tanya tastes a bit sour, but Stella probably does too. Tanya kisses her slowly, deeply, hovering above her, body pressed against hers. Her hands find their way to Stella's face, fingers drawing patterns on her temples. The intimacy of the position makes Stella's cheeks flush. Their eyes lock.

"Tell me something," Tanya whispers.

"About what?"

"Anything."

Stella bites her lip, having no idea what to say. It's been a long time since she's been like this, been completely open in this way, just for the sake of it.

"My favourite colour is blue," she says after thinking for a few seconds.

Tanya chuckles, an encouraging smile gracing her features.

Stella smiles back, "what's yours?"

"Green," Tanya says and they both smile at each other, because the whole conversation is so utterly ridiculous but somehow it feels right and relevant and important. Every single thing seems to matter. Stella finds herself curious about things she'd usually render unimportant or downright boring.

A bang is heard from outside the room, and Tanya is suddenly out of bed, out the door, out the room whilst simultaneously whispering ' _fuck_ , _fuck_ , _fuck_ ' underneath her breath. A cold wind sweeps through the open door and Stella stares at the doorway where she lies in the warm and suddenly too spacious bed. It is as if the spell has broken. Stella feels the world approaching, steels herself against yet another day of hard work. She takes a deep breath, tries to shuffle the previous feeling of safety and warmth somewhere inside of her, somewhere important, within the palace of her memories. She does not want to let it go entirely but knows that she'll have to. She leaves the bed and heads for the kitchen. She needs coffee.

xxxx

Tanya rushes around the house, doing too many things at the same time. She has placed a cup of coffee on a dangerously small shelf in the hallway, taking a sip of it each time she passes. She is running around the house, packing the girls' bags, eating a sandwhich, drinking aforementioned coffee, brushing Sanya's hair, helping Sunita get dressed-- Stella feels dizzy just looking at her.

Eventually they all get out the door, Stella in the driver's seat, Tanya riding shotgun, and the girls in the back, chatting away as they drive toward daycare and school. Once again, a feeling of strange domesticity passes through Stella, and she does not know what to do with it, tries to shrug it off. She focuses on the road as Tanya chats with her daughters.

xxxx

She refocuses when she's at the station. There's a distance in her eyes now, a blankness, a sharpness in which she hides her softer self. She is edges and strikingly golden hair and small freckles and soft blouses and pink lips. Burns drops by her office around lunch time.

"Where were you last night?" he asks as he seats himself on the opposite side of the desk.

Stella doesn't look up from her report. "Excuse me?"

"Last night. You weren't in your hotel room."

Stella looks up, gaze steely, blue eyes greyer than usual. She doesn't answer him, doesn't know what the fuck he is doing.

She does not have time to respond before her phone starts ringing. She answers and motions for him to get the fuck out of her office.

He scrambles up and out, closing the door.

She takes a breath.

"Gibson."

xxxx

The day goes on, long and slow. She feels the stiffness in her muscles return, the set of her jaw becoming permanent, clenching fists underneath her desk so no one sees. She wants to sleep. She wants to drink coffee, black as the night, or as the colour of Tanya's eyes, she wants to be out in the woods, walking, breathing like she used to with Jonathan. She wants to fuck. She bites her lip, thinks of Tanya's soft skin, the golden tint in it, the dark eyes, the feeling of her body pressed---

Someone opens the door. It's McNally. Stella almost smiles at her, almost, and beckons her to step inside. McNally closes the door. '

"Ma'am."

"Yes?"

"Um..." it's clear from McNally's hesitation and slightly sunken spine that she does not want to be there. She drew the shortest straw. "Well... the team and the bigger part of the PNSI here in the city are... um... well. There's a celebration tonight."

Stella looks at her sharply, "A celebration of what?"

"Of... closing the case, ma'am."

Stella decides she doesn't have an answer because according to her, the solving of the case was a fuck-up, not deserving of any kind of celebration.

After a few moments of silence, McNally continues: "It's at the bar just down the street. You're welcome to join," she murmers and clears her throat, "or actually, you're more than welcome. We would all like you to be there. It's at eight."

Stella looks McNally, sees the young woman with circles under her eyes, a sunken spine. She's tired. Stella gives her a small smile, "Thanks, McNally."

The girl smiles back, quickly, and leaves.

xxxx

Later in the afternoon, Eastwood drops by.

"Anderson is going to recover," he says without getting seated, just hovering in the doorway. There's a strength in his eyes which Stella respects, but once again, he - just like Burns - acts too much like he knows everything.

Stella doesn't answer.

"I said," Eastwood says and takes two steps toward her desk, "that Anderson is going to recover."

Stella looks up. "I know. I got the email, too, Eastwood. It's good news," she says, tone clipped.

A few moments of silence ensue.

Eastwood's mouth drops open and then it closes. She can see how he is clenching his teeth.

"I thought you'd be more interested to know more about what state he's in."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because, because you slept with the lad for Christ's sake!"

Stella stares at him and raises an eyebrow, not having time to wonder how Eastwood knows.

"And that's your business _how_?"

Eastwood becomes silent.

"I just thought... you'd like to know." He sounds defeated as he stares down at his shoes, hands in the pockets of his trousers.

Stella regards him silently with clear eyes, "all right. Thanks for telling me."

She does not say anything else, not being willing to give him rewarding him more for _once_ _again_ intruding on her privacy like this.

Eastwood nods and exits the room.

Stella closes her eyes, counting to ten. Anderson's going to recover. It _is_ good news.

xxxx

When she arrives at the bar around 8.30 most people from the PNSI are already there. Burns and Eastwood sit at a table near the bar, occupied by only men. The moment she enters, Burns' eyes are on her. She ignores them as she scans the bar. Ah, there. She spots the red hair in the corner of the bar. Ferrington. Stella makes her way to the young officer's table and puts a hand on the redhead's shoulder. Ferrington looks up and stands, "ma'am! Hello."

"Hi, Dani." She gives the young woman a smile, small yet genuine.

Ferrington smiles as Stella continues, "how are you?"

"I'm well, thanks, ma'am. And you?"

"Oh, same here," Stella says, feeling a slight smirk appearing on her face.

She might as well stay a little while with Ferrington and her friends before returning to her hotel room. Then she will have made an appearance, so as not to appear rude, but not have to spend any time with Burns or Eastwood. She is just about to shed her coat and get seated next to Dani when there's a tap on her shoulder. She turns around to find herself looking up into Burn's face.

She almost rolls her eyes. "What, Jim?"

"May I have a word, Gibson?" he says, eyes fearful yet determined, and it disgusts her so fucking much how he dares to pretend it's about work, using his higher rank on her by referring to her as Gibson. She sighs again, feeling the attention from all the young officers at the table behind her. She can't refuse him in front of his subordinates, no matter how much she may want to.

"All right, lead the way."

He leads her to a corner table for two, away from their colleagues. They get seated on opposite sides of the small table.

"Where were you last night, Stella?" Jim asks and Stella's eyes grow wide. How can he still think he has the right to ask her about anything not related to work?

"Jim," she begins, voice soft, "you need to stop asking me where I am. You need to stop calling my at night. You need to stop this."

"Like hell I am. I need to know: were you planning on fucking someone else from the PNSI? Perhaps Martin?" Burns' pupils grow smaller, his words harsher and harsher as he spits them out, "Is that where you were last night?"

"Jim," she begins, looking him straight in the eye. "You know very well that it is none of your business. And we both know that what's driving this in you is not some kind of professional loyalty to your subordinates. You. Need. To. Stop it." She raises her voice a little, pronouncing the words carefully, as if that would somehow make him finally listen to her. He still looks afraid. "For fuck's sake, Jim. _I don't want to fuck you_. How am I supposed to make it clearer than I already have? I don't want you. It won't happen again. So you need to let go of whatever you're feeling and move on."

She doesn't give him time to answer, only stands and marches out of the bar without looking behind her.

She heads back to her hotel room, feeling exhausted.

Her mind wanders as she undresses and draws a bath. It wanders between everything and nothing, between London and Belfast, between Tanya and Jim and Tom Anderson naked in her bed and Tanya, dressed, in another bed with midnight blue sheets and softness, and she thinks of Tanya's daughters, Sunita's smile that morning when Stella had helped her with her shoes and--

She sinks into the warm bath and closes her eyes. Behind her closed eyelids, Tanya's smile appears.


	5. In-Between

_Will you help her? Help, please. She's drowning in this sea of ashes, down she goes, down, down to the bottom of this ocean. She's an anchor sinking through the sea, heavy and stable and grounding. She's swimming in these waters, but her limbs are too heavy and she's falling down, down and there's no one there to catch her. She's in her office, the blood of Paul Spector on her hands, and she's smearing it along the walls, painting pretty pictures of a little girl with her favourite doll, smiley faces that are red, red, red. HELP. Olivia wants her daddy back but her daddy is a bad man. Paul's intense eyes stare into her own at the bottom of her sea where they're lying next to each other on the sand. And there's_ her _daddy...._

She gasps for air. She reaches for her journal but it's not there. Of course, its gone, it's been gone for at least two weeks now and she doesn't know what to feel or think or say. She needs to get the images out of her head or else they'll eat her up from inside. She tries to steady her breathing, feels how sweaty her skin is. She turns to the other side, cheek against a soft pillow. It's still night time so she can hopefully catch a few more hours of sleep before having to get up. She sighs loudly, images of blue water, the cold eyes of Paul Spector and the almost living ghost of her father refusing to leave her mind. 

The next day is a blur of paperwork and coffee. They hold a short press conference informing the public of the specifics of Spector's condition and some details of how the PNSI is to proceed, being careful to not forget to mention the full names of the victims of his crimes.

 _Fiona Gallagher_. (She takes one deep breath, remembering the first photos and the body stuffed into the wardrobe. Feels the anger burn within her.)

 _Alice Monroe_. (Imagines the scene which she acted out with Tanya in the bedroom, remembers speculating how the answering machine might have been on during Alice's final moments alive, safety so close yet too far away.)

She doesn't, however, mention Sarah. She hadn't wanted to be mentioned. 

Stella doesn't quite feel like herself, needs something to remind herself of her own strength, because she keeps feeling like it’s all seeping out of the cracks of her skin. It's not a good sign. She needs something to hold on to, a moment, a feeling, something. In the afternoon, she goes outside for some fresh air, climbing the stairs to the rooftop. The sky is grey and there's a slight drizzle of rain, but the air is cool against her eyelids as she stands there with closed eyes. She tries to find something to grasp, tries to erase the dream from her mind. And just like that, there's a hand on her shoulder and there is Tanya, sweet Tanya Reed Smith, this strange shelter from this strange new place, and she embraces Stella. Stella lets her head fall against Tanya's shoulder. Raindrops meet skin, and the city below them keeps going. For a minute, they stand still. 

"Can I come over tonight?" 

It's whispered into her ear. 

Stella gets past the surprise quickly, raising her head to look into Tanya's eyes. Here it is, the moment, the feeling. They gaze into each other's eyes for a minute, Tanya's soft and hopeful, Stella's pleasantly surprised and playful. 

"Yes." 

 

xxxx

 

Tanya's eyes are like dark waters in which, if it were twenty years ago, Stella would have drowned.

She shows up at Stella's hotel room doorstep, hair messy from wearing a helmet, body covered in well-worn leather. They are like evening and morning, night and day, sunset and sunrise and all the shadows in between. And Tanya enters without saying a word, walking past Stella, unzipping her jacket, and Stella follows, eyes glued to Tanya's back, unbelieving, stuck. She cannot take her eyes off of this woman, because this is something else. Yet again, the feeling returns, the feeling of one specific moment, something which makes her feel everything a little bit _more_ in every part of her body. Stella does not know what to say, does not want to be the one to initiate this, because she is curious to see how Tanya will go about it. Tanya turns around and the door is closed and finally they are _inside_ and the world _outside_. Only one tiny lamp in the corner of the room sheds light upon the furniture. The shadows fall about the room, dark and heavy.

In the shadows (...between the idea and reality, between the motion and the act...), she waits.

She imagines Tanya's gasp as she trails kisses down her stomach and --

Stella gives her a hint of a smile which Tanya does not return.

"I told John."

"Oh." 

Stella cannot think rational thoughts, does not want to, only wants to stay in a place where this feeling can live.

And Tanya approaches her, slowly taking off her leather jacket.

Stella swallows, wondering when Tanya, with her burning eyes, became the predator and she, with nightmares of the sea, the prey. There is no control to be won in this situation; Stella cannot think, because all she knows is what she _feels_ she wants to do. 

Tanya places a hand on either side of her face, peering into her eyes.

Silence ensues. 

Slowly, Tanya leans forward, and when their lips meet this time, for a heart-wrenching moment, Stella's mind _stops_.

She is lost.

Tanya is home.

  
xxxx

 

Limbs entangled, skin against skin, skin giving in to sensation and touch. She is living, a pale hand traveling the roads of darker skin. She is living, lips meeting, exploring, thoughts disappearing. She is living and she is not dreaming and she is not thinking.

In the early hours of morning, she wakes up to the feeling of someone drawing patterns on her stomach. She doesn’t jump out of sleep like she almost always does, hoping to escape the separate reality that is too much like the one she is living. She doesn’t instinctively reach for her journal.  
  
She (almost) smiles. Softly.  
  
She feels Tanya’s breath on her neck.

“Good morning, Stella.” 

“Good morning,” she whispers without opening her eyes.  
  
They stay silent for 5 seconds, 10 seconds—

She opens her eyes, finding Tanya’s, heavy-lidded and sleepy. Stella waits for the moment in which the need for space usually appears. Her eyes widen when it doesn’t, when all she can find within herself is sleepiness.

She closes her eyes, feels how Tanya scoots a little closer, settling her head on the pillow. Stella finds that she doesn’t mind.

 

  
.FIN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Thank you for joining me for this little thing. What did you think? Don't hesitate to leave a comment, be it of constructive criticism or just to say hello :-)


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